I'm a broken little robin, whose stuck in a Tobin, where the badgermen prey the rots. While left with a dusty band and a digi-pen as my wright hand, I draw and paint my skies asunder. Then, into the delirium I go, as I give one peck from the tip, swirling down the hare's hole, I am an avid listener...
I'm a broken little robin, whose stuck in a Tobin, where the badgermen prey the rots. While left with a dusty band and a digi-pen as my wright hand, I draw and paint my skies asunder. Then, into the delirium I go, as I give one peck from the tip, swirling down the hare's hole, I am an avid listener to the voices of Worsening as I venture through the mind's eyes, in search my little Eve.